CHANGE OF LIFE the last stage Eight
by GStales
Summary: 8th story in the Change of Life series
1. Chapter 1

**The Last Stage**

**One**

Kingston Sharlow leaned heavily against the door frame of the weather-beaten cabin; his craggy eyes squinted into the setting sun. He was waiting and watching for riders he knew would never come. The cold wind blowing in his face numbed his senses but did little to deaden his painful memories. Four sons were gone, rotting away in cheap pine coffins planted deep in the unforgiving soil of boot hill. A sorrowful wince grabbed his features and froze them in place. The pride and love he'd felt for those boys had been replaced by an emotion just as powerful – hate.

Elmer Sharlow studied his father, and thought how the old man had aged over the last year. He moved slower, talked less and had a disagreeable habit of ignoring folks when they talked to him, "Pa, you're a letting in all the cold! Come on in now and shut the door." The old man didn't move and finally Elmer walked over and led him away from the opening. He gave him a gentle shove toward the one good chair the shack possessed. "Set on down Pa.," he ordered while pouring a shot of whiskey into a tin cup. He placed the cup in his father's hand. "Drink up Pa, it's Christmas." Kingston moved the cup to his mouth and drank the contents with the jerky actions of a mechanical toy in need of winding.

Wally Sharlow, the youngest of the boys, barely seventeen, stood by the cook stove trying to take advantage of whatever heat the dilapidated appliance could throw off. His eyes traveled from his father to his older brother. His unspoken question was answered by a slight shrug of his shoulders and a shake of Elmer's head.

Stepping forward, Wally took the matter into his own hands, "Pa, doncha think, once this here snow lets up, we ought be heading on home? It's been pert near a year since we seen Ma, I got me a hankering fer some of her home cooked vittles."

At the mention of his wife, Sharlow looked up, his head nodded slowly and his eyes seemed to brighten. "Be good to see the old woman again," he agreed. He took notice of his surroundings as he glanced around the room lingering for a long moment to study his two surviving sons. When he spoke again, his voice had changed, "but first, we got us a lawman to kill."

**GS GS GS**

Matt Dillon opened one eye and then the other as he felt the weight shift on the other side of the mattress. He heard Kitty's slight grunt as she rolled herself out of bed.

"Again?" he asked.

"Again." She answered.

He resisted the urge to chuckle as he watched her pad barefooted out of the room and down the hall to the commode closet. He allowed his mind the luxury of replaying the past evening's celebrations. It had been a perfect Christmas considering the events and ordeals, which had led up to the occasion. He had kept a promise to himself and danced with Kitty. True there had been no fancy steps, but their bodies had swayed in time to the gentle music's sweet rhythm. Later Festus had helped Kitty extinguish the candles on the Christmas tree, while Doc tucked Christopher in bed before retiring to his own. Kitty had been weary but undeniably satisfied with the day. She had pushed his chair down the hall humming a Christmas tune. She had stopped mid-hum when they entered their room and she noticed the cot she'd been sleeping on for the past month was missing.

He'd grinned at her questioning expression, "I thought it was time you joined me in this bed again Mrs. Dillon. The nights are getting mighty cold without you."

She'd taken a long time getting ready for bed, changing into her nightgown behind the screen. When she finally did lie down beside him, she'd held her body rigid. His impatient hands had explored her expanded contours, discovering the delightful changes the past month had brought. But, Kitty seemed almost shy with him, a fact he'd found frankly puzzling. In all the years he'd known her she had never been modest about her body, especially with him. It had been one of the things about her that excited him the most; finally he asked her, "What's wrong Kitty? Are you tired? Would you like me to leave you alone?"

She hesitated and he could tell she was weighing her answer, "Oh Matt, it's just that… I'm so big now, how can you find me attractive, at least in that way?"

He had pulled her close to him and whispered in her ear. "Lady you're bringing me back to life." They must have been the words she needed to hear, because he'd felt her body melt into his as she accepted the gift his hands offered.

His face still held a satisfied smile when she padded back into the room. The springs under the mattress squeaked and groaned as she lay back down trying to find a comfortable position. "You okay?" Matt asked.

"Um hmm," she answered.

"How many times have you been up?"

"The last time makes four." She replied wearily.

He frowned, "Is that normal?" he asked.

"Um hmm," she answered, "Doc says it's perfectly normal for the last stage."

"The last stage?" he asked.

"Yeah, the last stage of pregnancy."

His mind began counting all of Kitty's close calls and near disasters when it came to stages. He could only hope this last stage would be a smooth and uneventful ride.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

The fall of 1885 that had seemed to last forever had finally given way to true winter. January of 1886 brought cold winds from the north that stormed across the prairie. Ranch and farmhouses turned into ice castles, frosted with snow and armed by glistening icicles. Snowfall became a daily occurrence as a sea of white washed the plains.

Because of the bad weather, Christopher spent the school week in town with Ma Smalley. If the weather permitted he returned to spend the weekend at the ranch. The house seemed so quiet without the youngster's presence, giving Matt and Kitty each a chance to contemplate their impending parenthood.

The event that had seemed so far away on that September evening in Doc's office now seemed impossibly close. Matt Dillon began to notice little things, things he'd been either too busy or sick to pay attention to before. Kitty's stomach definitely had taken on a life of it's own. Their evenings were spent in the parlor relaxing after supper. Doc would read from his medical journal as Kitty attempted for the tenth time to knit a baby blanket. Unable to concentrate on bookwork or reading, Dillon would find his eyes stray to his wife. He would watch in amazement as the baby blanket would rock and roll to the whim of Kitty's belly. One evening he watched as her stomach jumped in repeated jolts. Doc had been watching too, he asked with a chuckle, "Baby have the hiccups tonight Kitty?"

With a grin and wink at Doc she'd told him, "This baby must take after his Uncle Louie Pheeters!" She rubbed her belly in a soothing motion, "Settle down there Baby Dillon, it's nearly bedtime and Mama needs her sleep."

Matt's mind was reeling; "An unborn baby can have the hiccups," he questioned, "just like a real baby…?"

Doc laughed out loud, "That is a real baby in there."

Dillon didn't sleep a wink that night as the realization hit him full force, he was going to be a father – soon.

**GS GS GS**

As poor as she was at knitting, Kitty was a pretty good hand with a needle and thread. Her early years of getting by on little or nothing and saving every penny she could in order to buy the Long Branch, had given her plenty of opportunity to perfect her skill as a seamstress. She spent her afternoon sewing tiny garments made out of soft white flannel. One afternoon several weeks after Christmas, Matt had hobbled over to take a closer look at her work. Setting his cane to rest against the table he had picked up a tiny undershirt. It was smaller than his hand and his fingers were too large to fit in the sleeve holes, "Kitty…" he said cautiously, for her moods of late were unpredictable, "Isn't this going to be too small?"

She inhaled deeply, "Oh Cowboy, you do have a lot to learn," She tilted her head at him frowning only slightly and asked, "Don't you remember how small Mary was when you brought her to me?" He thought back to the newborn baby he'd left with her for safe keeping a few years back. He had been responsible for the infant for several days out on the prairie. He'd often wondered how the baby had survived his inexperienced handling.

**GS GS GS**

Kitty's own clothing had also become a problem, as her size rapidly expanded - even her maternity gowns, no longer closed over her ample breasts and enormous belly. She found by tying a ribbon around the button and looping it through the button hole she was able to widen the waistline of her skirts, Blouses were a different story and each one she tried on looked more indecent than the last. She finally found Matt's blue work shirts were large enough to accommodate her ever-escalating weight.

Mirrors were to be avoided at all costs. When by chance she did catch a glimpse of her reflection she hardly recognized herself. Her hair was always worn down now; the effort for any kind of style was just too great. Her face was full and her whole body reminded her of a balloon that someone had put too much air into. She would sadly shake her head at her image. "I look ready to pop!"

Shoes were a problem as well. The initial dilemma had been bending over to put them on. That had been replaced by the fact her feet had swollen to a size larger and the shoes no longer fit. One morning in late January, Dillon had limped into their room to find her sitting on the bed in tears. He was instantly alarmed and rushed to her side, "Honey, what's wrong?" he asked. "Are you in pain, is it the baby, should I get Doc?"

She shook her head, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. She stared up at him, sniffing loudly. Sitting down beside her, Matt handed over his fresh handkerchief. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose and when she seemed a little more composed he asked again, "What's wrong?"

The question produced a second flood of tears, she answered in a sob, "I can't put my shoes on."

Matt smiled, "Here, let me help you." He stood up and took her foot in his hand and picked up the shoe, "This reminds me of Hanna Rose's favorite story." He said trying to bring a smile back to her face. Hanna had received the book of fairy tales as a Christmas present. It traveled with her wherever she went. On Hanna and Bessie's last visit to the Dillon's she had climbed on Matt's lap and begged, "Please read me a story Marshal." When he had finished she'd looked up at him with her sweet little girl eyes as she fluttered her long lashes, "Again please." He'd been unable to resist.

Dillon relayed the story to Kitty as he prepared to slide her foot into the waiting shoe, "It seems there was this handsome prince …" He paused to make eye contact with Kitty before continuing, "That would be me. His lady friend, I believed they called her Miss Cinderella… that would be you… lost her fancy glass shoe. The Prince found the shoe, but he couldn't find his lady friend … seems he forgot what she looked like, so he went all around the county trying this glass shoe on every lady he found. Finally he got to Cinderella's place, but he didn't know that's where she lived. He tried the shoe on her ugly step-sisters, but their feet were too big to fit into the slipper." Dillon uttered these last words as he tried to push Kitty's puffy foot into her shoe.

"Ouch!" she cried. Matt pushed a little harder until finally with a grunt, Kitty grabbed the shoe from his hand."I guess you must have found one of the ugly old big footed step-sisters, because that shoe isn't going to fit Buster." Her lower lip trembled as fresh tears glistened on her eyelashes. She immediately lowered her head in embarrassment.

Matt Dillon knew this was trouble. He searched his mind frantically for the right words to say that would remedy the situation. Like a gift from above, the advice of Will Roniger popped into his head, "Kitty you're beautiful," he ran his fingers lightly up her neck to her chin and gently raised her face to look at him. He was satisfied by her smile, until he added, "Even if you are big." He was immediately aware of his mistake, and retreated like a common coward to the hall. He had shut the door just a moment before the offending shoe hit. He grimaced at the familiar sound. He knew that while he hadn't succeeded in putting Kitty's foot in her shoe, he had succeeded in putting his own foot in his mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

A bone chilling wind whistled through the pine trees that towered over the Dillon ranch house. The drifting snow hid the road from view and made travel near impossible.

That morning Doc Adams had studied Kitty Dillon with a medical eye. All his instincts as a physician warned him something was ready to happen. Kitty had seemed restless, moving from one thing to the next without ever finishing what she had started. Gone was the alluring sway of her hips when she walked, it was replaced by a duck footed waddle, that told Adams the baby had dropped and was positioning itself for birth. Doc had watched her from across the room as she pressed her fist into her lower back; she grimaced and stretched her spine. She glanced toward the old man and quickly smiled in an effort to hide her discomfort. "How about a cup of coffee?" she asked, as she put a fresh pot to brew on the stove.

He ignored her question and asked, "Your back bothering you Kitty?"

Her eyes were shadowed and her face slightly puffy as she looked at him from the stove, "Oh, it's just a little ache, nothing to be concerned with." She responded trying to keep her voice light.

Dillon stood in the doorway leaning on his cane; his face was set in a scowl, he didn't require a medical degree to come to the same conclusion as Doc, "Why don't you just rest now? We're not helpless around here you know."

"Oh I know." She responded.

Adams only half listened to their conversation, he was thinking and weighing possibilities in his mind, "Kitty, Matt's right, I want you to rest for an hour or so, just put your feet up in bed and take it easy."

Shaking her head and fast losing her patience, Kitty placed her hands on her hips and turned to meet the duo head on, "You two are worse than a pair of old mother hens." They had her best interest at heart and she knew it, so she tried to tone down her reaction, "Listen, I know you both mean well, but honestly I'm more comfortable when I'm up and doing something." It was unfortunate for her argument that at that moment a pain shot from her abdomen and circled around her back. She grabbed at her belly, nearly doubling over. Her words came out in little more than a surprised gasp. "Doc?! Something's happening," she panted, looking up into his face with an expression of unmitigated terror.

The old man was at her side in a flash, while Dillon using his cane took a moment longer. Together they helped her to a kitchen chair; she sat down hard. Her body was as tense as the contracting muscles of her abdomen, "Doc?" She said again beseeching him to do something.

He did. He placed his hand on her stomach and waited for the contraction to end; then he calmly took his watch from a vest pocket, and mentally marked the time. "Are you ready to lie down now?" he asked in his best physician's voice.

Just as suddenly as the pain came it had passed and miraculously, she felt perfectly fine. This surprised her. It was like nothing had happened. "It was just a twinge." She fibbed in the faces of the worried men. Her lie didn't deter Dillon, he remained at her side nervously patting her arm and brushing the damp hair from her clammy forehead. She found his fussing annoying. "I don't need coddling like some hot house flower you know, I'm fine."

Dillon wasn't fine, he felt like he'd swallowed his own heart and it was stuck at the base of his throat hammering away. He anxiously hovered over Kitty ready to help, but having no idea how. It was Doc who remedied that malady, "Matt I'd like you to help Kitty slip into something a little more comfortable while I gather my bag and a few necessities." He directed.

Matt's mind seemed only capable of following directions; he nodded and smiled dumbly, grabbing Kitty's arm with one hand and his cane with the other. It was an awkward journey down the hall and one Kitty could have made easier with out his assistance.

Doc gathered his bag and supplies giving Matt and Kitty an extra few minutes before returning to the room. He knocked on the door and went in. She was sitting on the edge of the rocker, her hands gripping the side of the chair, her body shaking with the effort to control the pain. Adams walked to her and said calmly. "Don't fight the contractions Kitty, use them." He watched as her grip on the chair loosened until finally she fell against the carved back. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, trying to prepare her body for the next onslaught.

When a few moments had passed Doc said gently, "Come on Kitty; let's have a look at you." She got up on surprisingly steady legs and walked to the bed.

When she was resting comfortably Doc opened his bag and removed a small wooden box. "Matt," he said, handing the container to the lawman. "I'd like you to boil some water and brew Kitty a pot of this herb tea." Matt thankful for any task he felt competent to perform took the tea box; he was almost out the door when he thought to ask, "How much water should I boil Doc?"

Hiding his grin behind a mustache scratch, Adams answered, "Enough for a pot of tea, to start with, when I need more young fella, I'll let you know. Now get busy, and don't come back until I call you."

Kitty pulled the sheet up over her mouth as she too hid a giggle, Doc shook his head as he watched Dillon hobble down the hall to the kitchen, then he shut the door and turned to his patient. "Well, Miss Kitty, let's just see how much water Matt's going to have to boil."


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

Adams was agonizingly meticulous in his examination, but his hands were gentle and his touch kind. When another contraction hit, he helped her to relax as she fought her way through it. The physician took a long time with his stethoscope listening to Kitty's heart and then placing the instrument over her stomach first on the top and then the sides. Kitty noted the serious expression on Doc's face and she held her body so still she wondered if her heart could still be beating.

"Can you hear the baby's heart with that?" She finally whispered. He answered only with a nod as he moved the stethoscope again. Finally finished with the exam, Doc pulled the covers up over Kitty. He washed his hands in the basin sitting by the bed.

Still seemingly deep in thought Doc opened the door to call Matt in. The husband had been standing in the hall and as the door swung open it hit the serving tray, very nearly sending the teapot flying to the floor. Matt juggled the tray for a moment before gaining control.

"Come on in Matt." Adams ordered.

"Is she going to have the baby?" he asked.

"Well she is going to have the baby, but not just yet, this was a false alarm. Now Kitty, I want you to drink this tea, it should settle down those contractions and let you get a little sleep."

Kitty's eyes went wide; she could hardly believe her ears. "This wasn't the real thing? It sure feels real Doc, are you sure?"

Adams patted her hand; "I guess I know real labor by this time Kitty. Don't look so disappointed, this isn't at all unusual; just think of it as practice.

Kitty took a sip of Doc's strange tea and made a face, "What's this stuff?" she asked.

"It's a mixture of herbs, perfectly safe for you and the baby." Adams turned and walked to the window letting the peace of the winter landscape calm his thoughts before he spoke. Slowly he turned to the couple. "Kitty, I want you to move into town until after the baby comes."

"Why Doc?" she asked.

The old man took a deep breath, stealing himself against her anger, "This is going to be a big baby, I don't want to frighten you, but I don't think I'm telling you anything you don't already know. When the time comes I want you in John Bledsoe's hands"

Kitty shook her head, "No Doc, this baby is going to be born right here, in this bed."

Adams stood firm, "I'm serious here, and I'm not taking no for an answer, as soon as the roads become passable you're going to Dodge.

She handed the empty teacup to Matt and sat up in bed. "No I'm not."

"I'm not going to argue with you young lady, I'm your doctor, and I know what's best."

"Exactly, you're my doctor and you live right here. Doc, I don't want Dr. Bledsoe to deliver my baby. I want you."

"We've already been through this." Adams said firmly.

Matt had been following the conversation, his eyes bouncing from one to the other as they volleyed their stubborn arguments. Finally he felt emboldened to say, "Doc, I agree with Kitty on this. I guess we'd both feel better if you were the one to bring our baby into the world."

Adams locked eyes with Dillon, trying to convey in his look that he had a very good reason for insisting Kitty be transferred to Dodge and the care of John Bledsoe. What Matt saw in the old doctor's eyes caused him to back down. He was just about to say so when Kitty let out a startled gasp, she grabbed her stomach and rolled over on her side. Adams returned to her, "Don't fight the pain, relax."

Kitty had a strong urge to tell him what he could do with his advice, but the contraction seemed to suck the words from her mouth. Doc sat beside her and she found herself focusing on his words, "Concentrate on breathing Kitty, in and out slow... that's it, in and out…." His hand rubbed her back and in spite of the pain she found her body relaxing until finally the contraction released her. She lay still for a time almost afraid to move for fear the pain would return.

Matt had watched the whole scene play out before his eyes, still holding Kitty's dainty teacup in his big hands. When he finally set it down on the bedside table, the cup rattled in its saucer because his hands were shaking so. Finding his voice he spoke up. "Maybe Doc's right on this, if he thinks you should be in town, I don't think we should argue with him."

Struggling to sit up again, Kitty's good humor had finally taken full leave, "Listen you two, just because I'm going to have a baby, doesn't mean I've lost the ability to make some decisions for myself. I am not, and I repeat, I AM NOT leaving my home. I've waited too many years for this. I want my baby born here, and that is exactly where it is going to be born! Now you can both leave because I've said all I'm going to say on this subject and I'm getting sleepy.

Both men made a hasty exit. Kitty lay back against the pillows after they left and another small contraction rocked her stomach. She tried to remember Doc's advice, "breathe in, breathe out… relax." When it was over she sat up in bed, her arms folded across her stomach. She was so mad at Matt and Doc she could spit. How dare they order her out of her own home? "Well, I'll just show that pair!" she thought.

Back in the kitchen the two men sat down to contemplate their cold cups of coffee. Matt finally broke the silence, keeping his voice low he said, "You know that look in her eyes as well as I do."

Doc nodded, "She's not going to back down without a good fight!"

"You really think she should be moved to town?" Matt asked hoping maybe Doc would change his mind thereby making life a little more pleasant for all the inhabitants of the Dillon ranch house.

Adams fidgeted a little with his ear; he looked at his coffee then decided he needed a little sugar in the cup. When he was finished he offered the sugar bowl to Dillon who shook his head and said, "You haven't answered my question."

Realizing he couldn't stall any longer, Adams plowed ahead, "When I checked for the baby's heart beat…" Adams scratched at his mustache, looking for the words that would break the news gently.

"What Doc?" Dillon's voice raised a hushed octave and he got to his unsteady feet towering over Adams.

"Matt I think you'd better sit back down." Doc advised.

"Just say it."

"I heard two distinct heart beats."

Matt stared at his friend, his mind refusing to register what Adams was telling him.

"She's going to have twins Matt; there are two babies in there!"

Dillon blinked his eyes as he tried to take in the news Adams had just given him. He felt lightheaded and the possibility he would actually faint on the spot loomed large. So large in fact that he collapsed into his vacant chair. The stalwart Marshal swallowed hard and then swallowed again, "Did you say… twins?" he stammered, `Two…

Deliberately Adams nodded his head confirming, "Twins."


	5. Chapter 5

**Five**

Doc's primary concern had been for Kitty. From the moment he'd first suspected she was going to have a child, his thought had been for her well-being. Now, having heard the heartbeat of two babies in her womb, he was faced with the fact that this might come down to a choice between Kitty's life and the babies. It was a decision he was ill prepared to make.

The old doctor turned his attention to the father-to-be, who sat at the kitchen table, muttering, the word "twins," over and over again, as if in repetition the reality would sink in. Dillon was suffering from shock and looked to be in need of medical intervention. Adams cleared away the cold coffee cups and set them in the dish basin. From the cupboard he retrieved two glasses and a bottle of whiskey, these he sat on the table before taking a seat across from Matt. He poured a generous amount into the one and handed it to the former marshal. "Drink this, and then we'll talk."

When both had finished their glasses, Matt turned to Doc and asked, "Why didn't you just tell her the truth Doc, why didn't you tell her she's having twins?"

"Because I think she has enough to deal with right now, I don't want her to take the delivery lightly. By telling her this was going to be a big baby, I wasn't telling her anything she doesn't already know, but I was reminding her nothing is a sure bet."

Dillon took a deep breath, straightening his injured spine he glanced at the closed bedroom door, "Is she strong enough for this?" he asked.

"Physically, I don't know. All things considered, this has been an easy pregnancy for her, and as for being strong, Kitty is the strongest willed person I know, in the end that's what it's going to take."

The lawman poured himself another shot of whiskey. The color was slowly coming back to his face. He swirled the liquor around in the glass before downing it in a single gulp. Forgetting his cane he got to his feet and limped across the room. The recently sewn baby garments lay in a pile ready to be washed in preparation for the new arrival. Matt picked up the top item from the neatly folded stack; it was the same little undershirt he had examined only days before, "What can you do for her in town, that can't be done here?" he finally asked.

Adams tugged at his ear, then answered Matt's question with another, "Matt, how much do you know about the female anatomy?"

"Up until now, everything I've needed to know." Dillon answered with a scowl.

A brief smile appeared on Doc's face, as he got to his feet, "Wait here," he ordered. He went into his room only to appear seconds later with a weighty book. He pulled up a chair next to Matt and sat down placing the volume between them. The tome had been book marked and he opened it to pages illustrated with a series of plates depicting the inner-workings of the female reproductive system, along with several depicting the birth process.

With the skill and patience of a born teacher, Doc proceeded to educate Matt Dillon in the finer aspects of childbirth. When he was finished, he finally answered Matt's original question. "If the birth were obstructed, or if one or both babies did not present properly we would be forced to take action to save the life of the infants and Kitty's life. If surgery is necessary, I want Bledsoe doing it. I'll be there to assist, but I want John's young eyes and steady hands doing the cutting."

**GS GS GS**

Matt Dillon lay awake in bed that night, staring at the ceiling while his mind pictured images inspired by Doc's obstetrical lecture that afternoon. The woman sleeping beside him seemed restless, with her tossing and turning. She would rest peacefully for a few minutes and then with a grunt change her position. Finally she kicked the covers from her body. He reached over and gently covered her up again. He listened and was relieved to hear the rhythmic sound of her breathing, signaling she'd fallen back to sleep. But a few minutes later she kicked away the covers again. Dutifully, as any caring husband would, Matt pulled the blankets back in place. He watched her then, making sure she fell back to a deep slumber. When he was certain she was sleeping he closed his eyes too. He'd been on that precipice just before falling to sleep, when his bed mate thrashed violently at the offending sheets and quilts.

"Damn!" she swore.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm hot!" she answered in a disgusted voice. She rolled out of bed and waddled from the room. He heard the kitchen door open and shut a few minutes later. "What's she up to now?" he wondered. The fire had gone out of the cook stove and the house was anything but warm, and he couldn't imagine her being hot. Dillon's back was always stiff and sore and this made his movements slow and clumsy, but he pulled himself out of bed to follow her. Grabbing a shirt from the chair next to the bed, he pulled it on as he hobbled down the hall to the kitchen. He found her standing barefooted in the snow on the porch. "What are you doing?" he asked incredulously.

"Trying to cool off my feet." She answered.

"Sweetheart, you're going to freeze them off, if you're not careful. Come on back to bed now." He directed.

With his arms around her he guided her back into the house. In the kitchen he pulled her into his embrace. He sighed deeply enjoying the closeness of the moment. The house was very quiet with only the ticking of the clock to remind them her time was approaching.


	6. Chapter 6

**Six**

February came without any let up in the weather. Snow piled higher against the out buildings and frost etched feather designs on windowpanes. The Dillon ranch endured its isolation without option to do otherwise. Travel would be too dangerous for a pregnant woman so Kitty Dillon remained where she wanted to be.

It'd been two weeks since Christopher had been able to come home, and Kitty sorely missed him. The house was too quiet. She missed his little boy hugs and the way he had of doing something sweet and kind at just the right moment. Puppy was despondent and followed Kitty around where ever she went. The little dog seemed to sense, in the way animals do that she was in the family way. The bigger her belly grew the more protective he became and both Matt and Doc had been growled at when Pup didn't approve of their behavior toward Kitty.

That morning she had awakened with a burst of energy; she had a wonderful euphoric feeling she could accomplish anything she set her mind to. She prepared an elaborate breakfast, complete with Matt's favorite, pancakes topped with Bessie's strawberry preserves. Willie had come up from the bunkhouse to join them for the meal. They were just sitting down to eat when there was a pounding at the kitchen door. A familiar voice on the other side shouted, "Matt, Kitty …. Open up!"

Recognizing his Pa, Willie jumped up from his chair and rushed to the door to let him in. "Pa, what's wrong?" he asked.

"We need Doc Adams?" Seeing the physician sitting at the table Will pushed on past the boy.

"It's Bessie, something's gone wrong. She's been laboring since yesterday morning. The baby won't come. She's wore out – I don't know how much more she can take! You gotta come Doc … you gotta."

Adams was already to his feet and headed to his room to get his bag and supplies. He called directions over his shoulder. "Willie hitch up the sleigh, Will, you head on back to Bessie now, the boy and I will be right behind you."

Roniger turned to leave but Kitty grabbed his hand in her own. "Tell Bessie I'll be thinking of her." She said. She saw the worry in Will's eyes as he nodded, "Bess'll be grateful to hear that Kitty."

Doc emerged from the bedroom with his medical bag. Sitting on a kitchen chair he pulled on his boots. He stood and grabbed his jacket from its hook near the door. Seeing Kitty's troubled expression he said, "Try not to worry." She nodded and handed him his hat and wrapped a scarf around his neck. "You take care too, Curly."

She stood looking out the kitchen window watching as the sleigh pulled down the lane. Matt came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She shivered at his touch.

"Cold?" he asked.

"Just got a chill." She replied giving voice to an old superstition, "I guess someone must have walked over my grave."

Her words brought a shiver to his spine as well.

**GS GS GS**

It was as they were cleaning up the breakfast dishes that she felt the first contraction. It started slowly, gradually traveling across her abdomen. The discomfort was slight. Dismissing the pain as false labor, she saw no reason to mention it to Matt. That first light twinge was followed by subsequent spasms, which reminded her of the cramping which accompanied her monthly cycle. It was when her bowels began acting oddly that the truth of what was happening came to her. This was it; she was in labor with only Matt to help her through it. She forced herself to adopt a calm attitude, even though a feeling of panic was causing her heart and mind to race. She'd assisted Doc in enough births to know this process, especially a first pregnancy, could take a long time. She reminded herself to save her strength for what lay ahead.

Dillon sensed something was going on. He kept a watchful eye on her; looking for any of the signs Doc had warned him about. With Willie at his parent's house, there was no one to attend to the chores. With a promise that he wouldn't be long, Matt pulled on his jacket and threw a scarf around his neck and limped through the snow, down to the barn relying on his cane to steady his footsteps.

He had an uneasy relationship with Buttercup the cow and usually took twice as long milking her as did Willie. Hampered by his back it took him a while to feed the horses and make sure young Star had some molasses mash to eat along with her allotment of oats. By the time Matt finally hobbled back to the house over an hour had passed.

During his absence the intensity of her contractions had increased. Kitty had forced herself to think of other things and when the pains hit, she tried to imagine Doc's voice telling her to breathe slowly in and out. She was preparing a fresh pot of Doc's herb tea, when a particularly forceful contraction hit. It took her by surprise, sending the tea kettle crashing to the stovetop. She turned around to grab onto the back of the kitchen chair trying to ease her body forward. The pain took her breath away and she bit her lip to keep from moaning. She closed her eyes tight against its attack. The beat of her heart pounded in her head like a freight train, eclipsing all other sounds, so that she didn't hear Matt entering the kitchen.

He dropped the firewood he'd brought in and rushed to her side. "Kitty" he cried in alarm, watching her face slowly relax as the spasm passed.

When it had, she said with a smile and shaky voice, "Hope you don't have any plans for the day, because I might need your help with a little something."

"I'm all yours." He answered, placing his arm around her shoulders. The pain had left her weak and she leaned heavily against him. He led her to the chair and it was then he noticed the floor where she'd been standing was wet and tinged with blood. He felt his own pulse quicken at the discovery.

**GS GS GS**

The Sharlows had been on the trail to Dodge for some weeks now, at night seeking any kind of shelter the frozen prairie landscape could provide. Several nights were spent in an abandoned line shack and another in an obliging farmer's barn. More often than not the only thing protecting them from the harsh winter weather was a battered tarpaulin that served as a make shift tent.

It was snowing again and the wind had picked up. They had stopped at a grove of trees off the main road. Kingston seemed indecisive. The trees would provide some protection, but certainly not enough if this storm picked up speed. Standing beside his horse he watched as his two youngest sons dismounted. The old man reached into his saddlebag to pull out some hardtack and jerky which he passed on to the boys.

Wally Sharlow bit off a chunk of the dried beef. The preserved meat had been in his Pa's saddlebags for more days than he cared to recall and tasted closer to leather than food. He chewed the meager fare as he wondered if he would ever feel full and warm again. The notion frequently crossed his mind that Pa was crazy. Three of his brothers were dead at the hand and gun of Matt Dillon. Wasn't that enough? Did Pa figure revenge was worth the price of all of their lives?

Dillon - they didn't even know what the lawman looked like, of course everyone west of the Mississippi had heard of the man. If you trusted his reputation, he was bigger and tougher than a grizzly bear and faster than greased lighting. The young man took a sidelong glance at his father and wondered if death were the only thing, which would stop his mission of vengeance.

"Pa, Dodge City ain't that far, you reckon we could spend a night in town?" Wally asked, "A warm bed and good hot meal sounds mighty fine about now."

"We got us business in Dodge, but we ain't got no money for them such luxuries." Kingston replied sternly.

"We got enough for that Pa, please…" Wally begged.

Sharlow focused a cold stare on his son, "You're soft boy, you never was made of the same such mettle as your older brothers, take after the old woman I `spect." He said these words not unkindly, for he understood courage took on many forms. Kingston's gaze stayed on his youngest son. Walter stood with his arms folded tightly across his chest, his hat pulled low on his forehead, doing his best to keep his teeth from chattering.

The old man's narrowed eyes softened, "I reckon it might be a good idea at that, kinda get the lay of the land…" Elmer and Wally exchanged hopeful looks as they climbed back in the saddle. Following fresh sleigh tracks, they turned their horses down Silver Creek Road.


	7. Chapter 7

**Seven**

"Don't look so worried," she admonished him, "This is normal Matt," She patted his arm in an effort to reassure him. "It's not all that bad. Bessie says, I just have to keep reminding myself when this is all over, we'll have our baby."

"Kitty …" Her hair hung in limp strands about her sweaty face. He reached out to push an errant strand from out of her eyes and his hand lingered on her cheek, "about the baby…"

"Damn, here comes another one." She hissed through gritted teeth.

He'd been watching her for some time now and as he did he tried to imagine what she was feeling. He decided the contractions must have hurt like a knife in the gut. He watched helplessly as she twisted and turned in an effort to escape the stabbing pain. His worried eyes strayed to the clock which sat atop their dresser. She had been laboring for hours. He knew Will's fear as he silently wondered how much more Kitty could take.

When the contraction was over, she smiled again, "I guess I showed Doc, didn't I?"

He nodded, "You're the boss Kitty! I guess we've figured that out by now. Doc should of known he didn't stand a chance once you set your mind to something."

Her face glowed with an ethereal happiness. "Our baby is going to be born in our bed, in our home." Her stomach muscles began cramping again, signaling the onset of another contraction. She concentrated on Matt's features, trying to lose herself in the depth of his blue eyes. The tightening intensified, until it was a pain, which stole all thoughts, from her head. The painful summit reached, her tensed muscles released for the gradual descent.

He wanted to turn away, watching her suffer was the greatest pain he'd ever experienced. But her eyes locked with his and wouldn't let go; when the pain passed, he cleared his throat and tried again. "Kitty, there's something you should know… about the baby I mean.

Her muscles tightened, but it wasn't a contraction that caused the tremor, "What about the baby?"

"It's something Doc found when he checked you." He forced the words to come out casually, but he didn't succeed.

"There's something wrong with my baby?"

"No, no the baby's is fine, just fine… it's just that…Kitty, I don't want you to get upset, but…"

This time the contraction caught her unaware and she had no time to prepare for it. Without the anchor of Matt's eyes she was like a child adrift on a sea of waves that tossed her about threatening to pull her under.

He reached for the cloth sitting in a basin beside their bed, wringing out the extra water he passed it over her forehead, hoping to wash away her pain. She grabbed his hand yanking it away from her face. Her teeth were clenched, as she demanded, "What about our baby?"

He was feeling guilty now, not sure if he should just wait and let her find out and not knowing how she was going to react. He was in too deep now to back out so he plunged ahead, prefixing his remark with an endearment, "Honey … Doc thinks you're going to have…twins."

The contraction had passed giving her the chance to digest his words. She stared at him trying to decide if this was his idea of a joke. He stared back at her wondering what her reaction was going to be and if he should prepare to duck. A slow smile worked its way to the corners of her mouth.

"Oh Cowboy, when we do something we do it right!"

**GS GS GS**

The gray skies had darkened to night. Lamps flickered light from various vantage points in the room. The howling wind rattled the windows and even in the cozy bedroom a cold draft could be felt.

Matt Dillon had Doc's book beside him and he referred to the text so often he could repeat by chapter and verse. Still he searched the pages hoping to find some new words of wisdom, which would allow him to take away her pain. He had readied a tray with a scissors, string and various other necessities. The baby blankets were warming by the little stove that provided heat for their room. In theory he knew what had to be done.

The contractions were heaped one atop the other now, with hardly enough respite between for her to catch her breath. Her lips were dry and swollen from biting them to keep from voicing her pain. The energy to fight in silence had cost her dearly, and now with each contraction she cried out.

"It'll be alright Kitty, we'll get through this. I promise you, it'll be alright." He vowed, repeating the words as much for her benefit as his own.

**GS GS GS**

Dillon held her hand as another contraction battered her body. She frantically gripped his hand as if it were salvation. They needed help; Matt Dillon had never been a man for prayer. He'd always figured the Lord helps them who help themselves, but now with his fingers wrapped tightly around hers as the pain tore her body he found himself asking for help, "Please Lord…"

Dillon didn't hear the knock at the door at first, but Puppy did. He growled and barked at the shadowed figures standing on the kitchen porch. The dark images were barely discernable through the lace curtain that covered the door's window.

"Don't leave me." Kitty begged clinging to his hand as he pulled away.

"I'll be right back." Matt promised.

He opened the door to see Kingston Sharlow and his sons, and it seemed like an answer to his prayers."Thank God." He said, pulling the old man into the room. Wally and Elmer followed their father into the warm friendly kitchen, keeping a cautious eye on the little dog standing guard next to Matt growling for all he was worth.


	8. Chapter 8

**Eight**

"My wife's giving birth, we need help … we need someone to go for a doctor." Matt explained.

Sharlow noted the panic in the man's voice as well as the limp in his step. "Babies don't need no doctor fer birthin, it's a natural thing."

"You don't understand this isn't a normal birth, she's going to have twins; she needs help."

Sharlow nodded, "That do make a difference. My boys'll go fetch the doctor, just tell `em where to find him."

"There's a doctor, a friend of ours, about two miles up the road. He's tending another woman, but she should have given birth by now… and there's another doctor in Dodge."

"My boys will need fresh mounts."

A shadow of a smile of thanks crossed Dillon's lips, but it didn't reach his eyes, there's a bay and a buckskin gelding down in the barn. Dr. Bledsoe is in Dodge, five miles down Silver Creek road to the West, and Doc Adams is at the Roniger farm, two miles east of here."

Kitty's pained cry reached his ears and stopped the conversation. He turned to limp back down the hall to their room. The stiffness and awkwardness of his gait was not lost on Kingston Sharlow.

Elmer turned to his father, "Pa do we gotta go?"

"Yeah, Pa … it's cold out there." Wally seconded.

"What in tarnation is ailing you boys, can't you see that there man needs our help? He's all crippled up for God's sake and his woman is birthing. You boys get a move on, I don't want to hear another word outa either of you." He opened the door and pushed his sons back out in the howling wind. "Elmer you head west, Wally you travel east, now git on out there and don't be a com'in back till you got a doctor with you."

The old man took off his hat and coat and draped them over a kitchen chair. He took time to wash his hands in the basin using the bar of lye soap sitting there. Checking the coffee pot on the stove and finding it hot, he helped himself to a cup. The remains of yesterday's dessert was in the cake saver on the counter. He found a plate in the cupboard and cut himself a generous portion. Taking the cup and cake to the table he sat himself down. The room was warm and cozy and brought to mind his home back in Missouri. Hearing the woman's cries coming from the room down the hall, his thoughts were taken back to his ol' woman. Kingston had sat by her side as she'd birthed their boys. The old outlaw remembered as if it were yesterday the joy of holding new life in his hands, and knowing it was flesh of his flesh and bone of his bone. He felt a sudden chill despite the hot coffee and stoked wood stove. His heart felt the pain that came with remembrance of holding his stillborn son. His memories became bitter, thinking of the eight sons, only two remained, three of them dead at the hand of Matt Dillon. The hardness returned to his heart and he vowed again, once he got to Dodge City he'd make the lawman pay.

The sound of the voices in the next room broke into his plans of revenge. He finished off the coffee in one gulp before he followed the voices to the bedroom. He stood unnoticed by the pair as he studied the couple. The woman wasn't young, but he suspected under other circumstances she'd be a looker. She was plumb played out now. He watched her twisting and turning like a young rabbit caught in the talons of an old red tail hawk. Her hands were working at the man's hands as if they were the only thing keeping her from being carried away by the pain.

Sharlow turned to the husband and remarked, "You're a gonna need them hands afore long." He pointed at the top sheet on the bed and asked, "You got another one of them bed dressings?"

Matt allowed a quick sidelong glance at the old man standing in his doorway, "Bed dressings?" he asked.

"Yeah, fer the missus ta hold on to."

Matt nodded toward the cupboard, "In the bottom drawer." He said. Sharlow opened the drawer and pulled out a freshly laundered sheet. He looped this around the bedpost at the foot of the bed. "Ma'am" he said, handing the ends to Kitty. "You best pull on this here when the pains hit." His squinty eyes examined the way she was laying on the bed. "You need some pillows behinst your back so's you're a sittin' up more-makes it easier for the baby to come down… doncha see."

Sharlow gathered the pillows from the floor where they'd been tossed adding a quilt to the pile, he placed them behind Kitty's back so she sat up at an almost 45 degree angle.

He looked quizzically at the couple, "You ain't never done this afore have ya?"

Matt shook his head; his eyes still locked with Kitty's, "This is our first."

Sharlow snorted, "I'd say you're both a might long in the tooth for this to be your first, but the Lord do work in strange and mystery ways … his wonders to perform…"

Kitty's frame rocked as another contraction surged through her body. Its power had changed to an undeniable pressure so great it became primal force.

"Oh," she cried suddenly, "I need to push!" These were the words Doc had warned him about, "When she says this Matt, birth is imminent." Dillon swallowed hard, searching his mind for what to do next. He moved to the foot of the bed and pulled the covers down. He nervously raised her nightgown. Prayer was his friend tonight and he found himself begging for help.

Sharlow moved to the head of the bed, taking the place Matt had occupied, his voice was calm and just hearing it took away some of Kitty's fear, "Ya gotta push real easy now Missus." To Matt he asked, "Can you see the baby's head yet?"

Dillon nodded, blinking his eyes, hardly believing what he was looking at.

The urge to push had strength of its own, one she couldn't have denied even if she'd wanted to. Each contraction made the urge more powerful. Her body felt like it was on fire as the infant's head pressed toward birth. Kitty's neck arched, and her muscles strained. Kingston Sharlow pushed the pillows aside as he moved on the bed behind Kitty to help support her.

"Push Kitty!" Matt encouraged as the baby's head forced its way through, "Again Kitty, our baby's almost here… push… push."

Kitty's body heaved as in a great rush of fluid and humanity the baby was expelled from her body into the waiting hands of it's father. The child was so small in his hands and she seemed unbelievably delicate, "It's a girl, it's a girl." Dillon whispered in awestruck wonder. Her lungs filled with life and she gave a hearty cry. As Kitty watched the baby's skin took on the healthy hue of a June rosebud.

"A girl…" Kitty whispered back, her eyes filling with tears. He placed the baby on Kitty's chest and covered mother and child with a blanket. Kneeling down beside them, he stared in wonder at the perfect features of the creation of their love. Words weren't needed in that one remarkable moment in time.


	9. Chapter 9

**Nine**

Sharlow gave them a moment before he complimented, "Mighty fine job there Missus, mighty fine."

Kitty looked up at the kindly old stranger, "Thank you." She whispered wanting to say more but not having the strength left to do so.

Sharlow looked embarrassed, "I was glad to be of some help, I done been through this eight times with my missus."

It was just moments later that they heard the sound of Doc's sleigh coming down the lane, followed by the slam of the kitchen door and hurried footsteps running down the hall to their room. Adams smiled when he saw the sweet picture of Matt, Kitty and the newborn in her arms, "Well, I see you took care of baby number one without my help. I'd best check on number two, Kitty."

As if on cue she felt the return of a contraction. Sharlow bent down to Kitty's ear, "Best let me take care of that young'n Ma'am."

Doc viewed the stranger critically, "You know what you're doing with that baby?"

"Old man, I done had me eight younguns, I reckon I know what to do better'n you."

On his father's direction Wally Sharlow had brought in a fresh basin of hot water.

Doc took the time to wash his hands and arms thoroughly then turned to Matt, "I'll take over on this end."

Matt moved to the position the stranger had vacated, supporting Kitty as she rested against him waiting for the next contraction.

Doc began the examination with his face set in a frown, "Baby number two hasn't moved down yet. It's way up here." He explained, placing his hand high on her abdomen where the infant was position. His hand remained there for the next contraction. He started to apply pressure to the top of the fundus in an effort to move the baby down. Her strong contractions proved productive, Doc increased the pressure, "It's working." He said with a smile.

She could feel the baby changing position as it moved down the birth canal. Pressure on her low back increased and as it had with the first infant she was feeling the urge to push, "Easy now Kitty … the head is beginning crown, she felt a second ring of fire as the baby's head pushed at her body.

With each contraction, each push the baby's head would come down a little and then recede back, "Push now Kitty," Doc encouraged. The clock on the dresser ticked away the contractions as each one failed to bring progress. Kitty was exhausted, unable to concentrate the pain became her master, even the powerful urge to push had lost its strength.

"Damn, the shoulder's caught," Doc cursed, "Come on Kitty, push, you gotta push!"

"I can't …" she wept.

Matt looked into Doc's worried eyes. They were in trouble, He braced himself behind her and whispered in her ear, "Yes you can, we can… we can do this Kitty. We've waited you and I … a lifetime for today, for right now, for this moment."

From somewhere deep inside an instinct took over. The courage, which had seen her through so many of life's crisis did not abandon her now. With a mighty push the child's head was born, but the umbilical cord was wrapped tightly around its neck. Grabbing a scalpel, Doc cut through the cord, "Kitty you have to push that baby out now or it will die."

"No, no my baby … will … not… die!" The words came out angry and with a strength she couldn't still possibly possess. She would not lose this child without a fight. Through a haze of fear and exhaustion, she concentrated with everything left in her, to command her body to release their baby. She strained forward. The muscles of her neck knotted like ropes. A groan started low in her throat and rose to her mouth in a scream as finally the limp baby was delivered into Doc Adams hands.

Matt and Kitty watched in horror as Doc held their stillborn son. His color was blue and he made no sound. The old man carried the lifeless infant to the rocking chair and sat down.

"No, no…" Kitty sobbed, "not my baby… no." Matt Dillon cradled her in his arms as tears burned his own eyes. "Shhhh…" He soothed, rocking her gently back and forth. He bid his Friend prayer one more favor.

Kingston Sharlow stood in the doorway watching the drama of events, as baby number one slept peacefully in his arms; the comforting weight of the child's warm body easing the ache of his own memories.

Doc Adams swore at the lifeless infant, "Live, live damn it," He ordered. "Breathe … breathe." He placed his mouth over the infant's and breathed his own life into the child; his fingers tenderly messaged the baby's heart. Like the tremble of an aspen leaf against a gentle summer breeze, Doc felt the flutter of the baby's heart. He saw him take his first breath and then another, he watched as the color came to his skin and he laughed with joy as his victorious cry filled the room.


End file.
